She and Liza had visited once or twice since her Breed lover, Stygian Black, had brought her to the hotel for protection. Though the attack on her previously had caused more stringent protective measures to be taken, it might be possible to meet with her now.
Isabelle Martinez, the other Breed lover, was actually a relation. They were second cousins and close friends, though Isabelle hadn’t been very social since the attack that was made on her as well.
Being a Breed lover wasn’t exactly a safe position to have.
“Find out what you can, Whisper,” the warrior sighed heavily as she watched him thoughtfully. “And quickly, if you don’t mind. If Wyatt’s contact has his warrior’s confidence, then they could reveal all our identities. And I don’t believe I’d enjoy being hauled into Breed headquarters and interrogated by the bogeyman of the Breeds.”
She couldn’t blame him for that one.
“As quickly as possible,” she promised. “It may take a few days to make contact with my own sources, though.”
“I’ll look forward to your report.” He nodded.
“Just don’t hold your breath,” she sighed.
He chuckled. “Never.” He started to turn away before pausing and turning back to her. “I heard you’ve been trying to find out where Kandy disappears when she can’t be found.”
She had nearly asked him to help her when she began looking but had rejected it. She was certain Kandy wasn’t in any trouble, but she could sense something wrong.
“Do you know where she’s at?” Gypsy clenched her fingers on the edge of the counter as she prayed she’d been right.
“Mark’s grave,” he answered. “Maybe you should join her, Gypsy. Perhaps it’s time to see the past from a new perspective.”
Gypsy didn’t move as he turned and disappeared into her bedroom, knowing that joining her sister at that lonely, desolate place was something she couldn’t do.
Not now.
Perhaps not ever.
Something inside her tightened to the point that pain lanced her heart, drawing a ragged sob from her chest.
She didn’t cry.
She never cried.
She’d shed all her tears the night Mark had fallen to the ground, staring back at her with such bleak sorrow.
His face flashed before her as her fists jerked up, pressing into her closed eyes as she fought against the image she couldn’t seem to get out of her head.
Her stomach churned with memories she kept buried until these flashing moments of weakness, of agonizing realization. She couldn’t breathe, and her throat felt so tight that swallowing nearly had her retching.
Why? Why had he told her that?
She would have preferred to just not know where Kandy was disappearing to and why she was staying out so late.
God, why was her sister doing that?
Why was she going to that place?
Gypsy hated that piece of ground.
She refused to go near it now, wouldn’t even drive past it whenever her destination called for it. She always took an alternate route.
She couldn’t bear the thought of looking over to that beautiful rise to see the black onyx stone that marked it.
“Why?” Before she could suppress the shattered scream inside her, it escaped her lips as her hand gripped a glass vase on the shelf next to her, which she threw with enough force to launch it across the room. “Damn you, why?”